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A few moments ago,
Nestled within the covert corners of the naval vessel, in the clandestine C.I.A office,
Mystique spoke with a calm demeanor, her words directed at Agent Stryker, "Your attempts to sew discord among us, this mentality - us versus them - is very dangerous. It's a ticking time bomb that, left unchecked, could result in a catastrophe.
And this effort to strip them of their humanity? They are ordinary people, much like you or me, they just... possess rather extraordinary abilities."
No sooner had her words echoed through the room than a thunderous explosion erupted from above, shaking the vessel. It was the chaotic symphony of the battle between Val and Shaw.
* KA-BOOM *
Each person within the office clung to their chairs as the tremors rattled the table along with the rest of the ship.
Once the shaking ceased, Agent Stryker rose swiftly abd shouted, "This! You refer to this as - normal?! No average human possesses such devastating potential. This is the work of mutants. Mutants with the power to wipe out families with a mere gesture. Mutants who shrug off bullets as if they were raindrops. How are we to contain such monstrosities? Deploy tanks in our city streets?! That would lead to chaos.
No, we should confront the problem at its root." A wicked grin spread across his face as he cast his gaze around the room, "I propose, we rain down missiles upon them. As they are embroiled in their internal skirmish, we strike. We eradicate the issue before it escalates."
A wave of agreement swept over the room at Agent Stryker's suggestion, fueling his ego as he straightened his back and adjusted his suit in a gesture of pride.
However...
"Absolutely not!", Mystique's words thundered throughout the room, her expression was one of rage, causing most of the heads to swivel in her direction. She jabbed her finger toward Agent Stryker and fiercely said, "You! Are you even aware of the choas that would ensue if we acted on your suggestion? Can you even comprehend the aftermath? It would lead to war! A never-ending war! A war bred from petty differences. A war that can be easily prevented with a little thing called decency.
Decency, which you severely lack, you clueless fucking idiot!"
Agent Stryker's eyes slits into narrow lines at Mystique as he warned, "Watch your tone, Vice Admiral Grant!"
However, Mystique fired back, "The only thing I will watch is the world being burnt by your idiotic suggestion."
Just as Agent Stryker began to respond, "You have no id–", his words were swallowed by a resounding explosion that dwarfed the previous one, shaking the room with a new-found intensity.
* KA-BOOOOOM *
The once firm footing of the vessel was now an uncontrollable bucking beast. The occupants were thrown about like ragdolls, clutching their heads in the grip of an agonizing pain. A silence then descended, as abrupt as the quake itself, leaving behind a residue of eerie calm.
After what felt like a lifetime, the crew gingerly rose to their feet, their bodies protesting the sudden movement after the brutal jolting.
Agent Stryker's face was now twisted with a wild desperation. He screamed, his words echoing through the shocked silence, "This is it! Our demise! Annihilation by mutants! Mutants! We are going to die! I am going to die! Help me! My family! Oh God!"
As his frantic outbursts filled the room, a group of agents swiftly sprang into action. They wrestled him to the ground, pinning him there despite his hysterical flailing and incomprehensible ranting.
The weary Director of the C.I.A settled into his chair. "Enough of this back-and-forth," he desperately said, "We need to put a lid on this discussion. Now!"
A flurry of whispered voices swept through the room as the individuals present shared their opinions. Some endorsed the idea of missile attacks on the mutants battling above, while others resisted it vehemently.
In the midst of the heated debate, Mystique's gaze wandered back to the Director. Something about his mannerisms seemed off - a certain rhythm in his tapping on the table. She knit her brows in suspicion, and when her eyes trailed upward to his face, her heart skipped a beat.
The Director's face was stretched into a sinister smirk, one that chilled her to the bone. There was something knowing, almost triumphant, about his gaze. The way he looked at her, she felt her facade melting away under his scrutiny, as if he was seeing past her Vice Admiral Grant disguise to the truth beneath.
Abruptly, the C.I.A Director shouted causing the room to fall silent. "Enough!" he shouted, "We can't afford this drawn-out discussion. I have made my decision!"
All eyes snapped towards him, a mix of anticipation and dread filling the room. The Director let his gaze roam, meeting each pair of eyes around the table. He paused when his eyes fell on Mystique, and a wicked smile unfurled on his face. With a dramatic flare, he announced his chilling decree, "Launch those missiles!"
* BANG *
Mystique's hands slammed down onto the table, the sound reverberating through the silent room. Her voice boomed in defiance, "If any of you obey him, I swear to God, I will pull the trigger without a second thought. As Vice Admiral Grant, I am commanding each one of you – do not launch those missiles! Disobey me, and you will face the consequences of defying your superior, desertion, and treachery against the United States of America."
Her words echoed in the tense room, and most of the Navy officers and soldiers stood frozen, caught in the deadlock. But then...
Without warning, the blare of red alarm lights erupted throughout the Navy vessel. All eyes swung towards the source of the noise - a Navy soldier was pulling his hand away from a red button on the control panel before him.
Mystique's eyes bore into the Navy soldier. Rising from her chair, she reached out to snatch a M1911 .45 caliber pistol from the nearest soldier. Holding the weapon with a firm grip, she strode determinedly towards the soldier who had pressed the button.
Coming to a stop before him, she raised the pistol, the barrel centered on his forehead. In the silence, her voice echoed with an authoritative command, "You've deliberately defied your superior. By that act, you are a deserter, an enemy to the United States."
The soldier met her icy stare with a smile of his own, retorting, "I'm not the enemy here. You are!"
* BANG *
With a resolute expression, Mystique pulled the trigger, the gunshot ringing loud in the room. The bullet found its mark, plunging through the soldier's forehead. His body went limp instantly, collapsing onto the control panel.
With a look of utter disdain, Mystique spat on his lifeless face, voicing her contempt, "Traitor!"
She turned around, only to be met by a chorus of gasps and exclamations from the room's occupants. Confused, she questioned the crowd, "What's wrong?"
In haste, one soldier pointed behind her, his voice laced with urgency, "Look behind you, Vice Admiral Grant!"
Bewildered, Mystique spun around. What she saw next left her utterly aghast.
The corpse of the soldier, once human, now bore a chilling transformation. His skin had taken on a distinctive green hue and his ears now came to sharp points, both signs of a remarkable change into a creature far from human.
Mystique stared, her gaze affixed on this startling figure, the question echoing in her mind, 'What the fuck is that?'
Yet she remained unaware that this bizarre humanoid was, in fact... a Skrull!
From his position on the floor, the agitated Agent Stryker recognized the alien form, his voice filled with panic as he exclaimed, "It's an alien! Aliens are amongst us! We are being invaded! Aliens are invading us!"
Hearing Agent Stryker, everyone present drew their weapons, casting suspicious glances at one another, fear and suspicion replacing their former camaraderie.
Weapon in hand, Mystique's gaze lingered on the lifeless form of the alien disguised as a naval soldier. 'An alien, here?', She thought to herself. The question bubbled inside her, 'Why is there an alien among us?' Her gaze roved around the room, landing on each face as a more pressing thought took hold, 'Who else here might be an alien?'
Her gaze narrowed in thought, scanning her memories for any hint of strange behavior she might have overlooked. A prime suspect leaped to the forefront of her thoughts - the C.I.A Director!
His disinterest in open debates, his abrupt command to launch the missiles - it all added up. If he was indeed an alien, instigating a conflict between mutants and humans while his kind covertly infiltrated could be his grand plan.
As her gaze landed on the still-shouting Agent Stryker, she quickly discarded the possibility of him being an alien. Charles had mentioned that Stryker's son was a mutant and his hatred for mutants stemmed from his desire for his son to be 'normal'. Thus, his loud views on mutants were expected, rather than suspicious.
Her gaze locked onto the C.I.A Director. He briefly met her stare, and then, with a surprising agility that betrayed his obese physical appearance, he sprang to his feet. Weaving expertly through the gathered agents and naval officers, he made his dash towards the door.
"Get out of the way!", Mystique barked, using her authoritative tone to clear a path through the startled crowd. She pursued the deceptive Director into the hallway.
The alien was quick, darting into the distant passage. Mystique entered the hallway just in time to see his retreating form. She raised her pistol and barked, "Stop!"
He either didn't hear her or chose to ignore the command, his pace undiminished. Resolute, Mystique pulled the trigger.
* BANG *
* BANG *
Mystique lowered the pistol, watching as the alien crumpled to the ground. As she approached, she got a glimpse of his true face - a Skrull!
The alien clutched it's chest as it grappled with the pain, staring up at Mystique as she leveled her weapon at him and asked, "Who the fuck are you? What are you doing here?"
Ignoring her queries, the alien gasped out, "Talos is a fool! We, the Skrulls, will claim this planet in the name of our ancestors!" He fumbled with a small object in his pocket, revealing a pill which he hastily swallowed. Within moments, he lay motionless.
Stunned by the rapid turn of events, Mystique's voice echoed in the empty hallway, "What the fuck is happening?"